


Disability

by orphan_account



Category: ActuallyStephen, DanPlan, Video Blogging RPF, actuallyoddplan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blind AU, Daniel's ded, Disability, Fluff, Hosuh's maintaining a long-distance platonic relationship wit JK, Jay's blind, Light Angst, M/M, Stephen has bi panic, Stephen has.. parents, another au shut up, jayphen makes me happy okay, probably mentions of other guests as bg charas, shhh dont tell them i like this ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jay's heart flutters at Stephen's voice, and Stephen's face undergoes serious tomato shades.Jay's just moved and he forgot his umbrella. Stephen's just there beside him at the shelter, with an umbrella. And it's raining quite a lot.A side project for the quarantine, and it'll probably update itself.Genres: Ha it's just normal highschool (?) stuffUpdates: Whenever I feel like I'm dyingInspired by depress-hybrid on Wattpad, but I swear it doesn't have bad grammar.
Relationships: Annabelle | Melodify & Stephen Ng, Jay Ko & Hosuh Lee & Daniel Lim, Jay Ko/Stephen Ng
Kudos: 40





	1. Puddles and Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all of you :3](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=all+of+you+%3A3).



“Ow, what the fuck?” He drops his books, and he crashes into someone. Splashes resound and he drops immediately, scrambling for the books, of course a hopeless act. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He whispers under his breath, the pages wet and sealed together with rainwater from that single puddle. 

“ _Excuse me,_ ” someone says softly, and Stephen looks up. A boy, his eyes seeming to be oddly closed, and he twists his hands hesitantly together. He nearly bites on his lips, and the blush that spreads across the expanse of his face refuses to go away. He turns away, holding the back of hand to his face. Fuck. He tries to keep his bisexual heart from beating out from his chest.

_Fuck, he’s cute._

But he can’t help being a bit annoyed at how he didn’t look out. Even if it’s mild.

“ _I’m sorry, but can you watch your way, please? My books are wet because you bumped into me, you know?_ ”

The blond gives a little flinch and he bows his head hurriedly. “ _I’m so sorry, I couldn’t see you._ ”

Stephen scoffs. “ _Maybe with those closed eyes you really can’t_.” 

“ _Sorry, sorry,_ ” the boy says, tilting his head down to him. 

Stephen sighs, standing up to pick himself up. “ _It’s okay._ ” _Maybe he can’t see my blush either._

Water sloshes around his sneakers as he puts it down into the puddle, and he walks away, pulling out an umbrella. It’s just a small crush, it’ll go away. Chances are that this guy is straight, and sexuality can’t be changed, despite how desperately that he wished he could. Don’t think he could handle telling that to his… parents. Parents.

The umbrella gives a small _whoosh_ as it opens and he hoists it over his head, a dark dark blue like the night sky, blending in with the darkness of the roadside in the parking lot. His shoes squeak in the rain, and he walks away, rain droplets on his skin, wishing maybe he could just talk to the boy.

“ _Hey, er, wait!_ ” The boy calls from behind him and stopping him in his tracks. The rain falls harder.   
“ _What?_ ” Stephen says, not daring to turn.

“ _I…I didn’t bring an umbrella. Could I… you know, share it with you?_ ”

Stephen pauses. “ _Yeah, okay.”_ He walks back to the shelter, and the boy drops down. He slips on the road, falling forward, ankle twisted, arms awkwardly placed, and Stephen catches him like he couldn’t for his wet books.

They are just a centimeter apart, breath mingling, foreheads touching, Stephen staring right at the other’s closed eyes. 

The other upright himself, and Stephen has to move away a little to hide the intense blush. 

“ _Okay? Let’s go._ ” Stephen says hastily. He feels a finger hook the crook of his elbow, and the other hangs onto him like a lifeline. 

“ _I- okay let’s- just—_ ” Stephen’s voice is heated, and he walks, the other by his side, leaving ripples in the puddles, the comfortable pull of his hand’s weight on his elbow. 

“ _I’m Jay. Jay Ko._ ” He says, and it engraves itself into stone.

<>

Jay tells Hosuh about Stephen. 

“That’s actually really romantic.” Hosuh’s voice comes from the end of the telephone line, a amused tinge.

“Bro I—” Jay hides his face in his blankets on his bed, morning sunlight streaming from the window, casting rays of light across him and his room. The door’s closed, so his dad wouldn’t know he was talking to Hosuh instead of sleeping in.

“On a more serious note, how are the eyes?” Hosuh says, but Jay hears the worry behind the cheerful front.

“Okay. I mean, they’re not coming back or anything,” Jay says, resting his chin on his palm, twisting himself onto the window ledge. 

“Donors?”

“Nah, mine’s not as serious as other people’s need for eyes. Don’t think I’ll get new ones soon, if at all. No one donates organs these days.”

“I wish I could donate mine for you, but I don’t think my parents are gonna allow me to do that.” 

Jay smiles although Hosuh can’t see it, a slightly bitter one.

“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll manage. I mean, I have the walking stick now.”

“That’s not enough. You won’t be able to see anything.”

“I miss Dan. I wish we never did that.”

“I wish I stopped you guys.”

Jay closes his eyes. They are silent.

“Okay, I’m just gonna hang up already, it’s getting so depressing.” Jay hears the smile in his voice. Jay chuckles a soft laugh, and he hears the click of the line cut. 

Maybe seeing Hosuh would be great for his mentality. 

He slips from his bed, feeling for the walking stick, grabbing the long smooth object, pushing it to the ground. The stick hits the ground, a sturdy bang on the floor. He hears movement from the kitchen, the faint shuffle of slippers on the ground, the soft scraping of a spoon on a plate, the sound of quiet beating of eggs in the distance a few rooms away. 

His ears have already adapted. When will he?

The stick bangs the closed door, and he reaches out to grope for the door nob before finding it and twisting it open.

“You up?” He hears his father say from the kitchen. 

“Yeah.” His voice became much much softer after they moved, quieting so as not to draw attention to himself and to give his sensitive ears space.

Maybe if he wasn’t so loud nobody would think I’m disabled. _Disabled_ , that word, tossed around. _Disabled_ , the wrongness of the word itself in his ears, and he refuses to acknowledge it, give it thought. He’s just different. He just used to be the same.

He would give anything to have his eyes back.

And _Daniel, Daniel, Daniel_ , his laughter bright in the evening breeze, his eyes shining with yet another stupid idea that would get them into trouble, but they would go long with them anyway. He missed Hosuh. He didn’t miss the stares he felt and the empty space that filled he and Hosuh’s silent spaces, and pulled at his heart whenever he turned and felt no one beside him. He missed the times when they climbed on top of a wall, and stayed there, wind tousling through their hair, laughter always on their tongues. He remembers the snorts Hosuh would give, how he would bend over and literally die from laughter, and Dan would giggle at his red face, and they would laugh all over again until their cheeks hurt and they had to massage them to relieve themselves. He missed the three of them.

Those days are reduced to daily phone calls from Hosuh, and probably going to get lesser and lesser. They reminded each other of Dan, and they both hated that and loved that. 

Jay always says he’s fine. He’s fine. He is. Maybe.

It’s those damn mirrors. 

_I hate mirrors._

_Not that I can see anything anyway_. Ironically for seeing yourself. They killed his eyes. They killed Daniel. 

_I hate mirrors._

“Egg?” His father says, far away.

Jay barely hears it even with his heightened hearing. “Okay. I’m okay.”

He’s not.


	2. Homeroom, Oh and Also Ann

There isn’t school today, so Jay asks if he can go to the park for a stroll of sorts. Not that he can stroll fast with a stick.

He feels the air currents around his father’s face change as he most likely frowns, but lets him go regardless. He’s glad. He’d been stuck largely indoors ever since that thing happened, and he desperately needs a breath of fresh air that isn’t the rare occasions that he walks himself home from school (or he tries to). 

He slips to the pavement, his shoes squeaking on the stone pavement, scuffing the grip on his shoes. He wraps a scarf around his neck on insistence from his father. He skims the road in front of him with the stick. He’s certain after walking a certain distance in a straight line that he is already at the park, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

He senses someone right in front of him. He reaches out and places a soft hand on the person’s shoulder. They’re wearing a sweater, in this summer-autumn cold.

He feels the air currents change as the person swirls around. He flinches, expecting the usual pause at him as their eyes search him up and down, the sharp intake of air, the disgusting _oh poor thing_ that follows as they spot the walking stick he holds loosely in his hands. 

  
_‘He’s only barely in high school.’_

This was a bad idea. Jay stops himself from yelling at the person for no reason whatsoever. 

“Are you new here?” is definitely what he does not expect comes from the person instead of the usual gawking. It’s quirky, laced with genuine sweetness. It paints an image of a young girl.

“Yeah. I just moved here.”

“No wonder I haven’t seen you around!” goodness is she loud, and Jay winces a little, restraining himself from rubbing his ears. 

“Is this the park?” Jay says quietly, a stark contrast to the other.

“Yeah! I could give you a tour of the park if you’d like! It is my sanctuary, after all! There’s no other more qualified pro around.” She’s a hyperactive bundle of energy, but Jay likes her nevertheless.

“I’m sure there are better guides than you.” He says, silent sass in his voice.

“Don’t be like that.” The girl presumably crosses her arms and blows out her cheeks.

“I’m just kidding, short girl,” Jay says, finding her head on the spot, patting it. 

“I’m _not_ short!”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

The girl huffs lightly, then grabs his hand holding the stick quickly and speeds off.

“Hey!” Jay squeezes out, other hand holding tightly on the scarf as it billows behind him.

“So, the local university is near here, ‘bout thirty miles or fifty kilometres from here. I’m from there— ooh! I bet you’re there too!— There’s lots of stuff in here!”

Jay chuckles. 

“You’re cute.”

The girl stops and says with dramatic flair, “Of course I am.”

“And _tiny_.”

“I am not that!” The girl lets go of his wrist and pokes him tiny-aggressively in his chest, which is probably as far up she could reach.

“Be careful or Stephen’s gonna come for you, okay? He’s protective of me, so don’t mess with me, bully!” the girl says, but Jay’s mind secures onto just one word. 

“Stephen? Stephen what?” Tons of Stephens.

“Stephen Ng, you sucker!” she yells, but it still remains friendly.

“He’s my bestest friend! But like,” she quietens unbelievingly, “he hasn’t been present lately. He’s always going to do this, do that, I don’t even see him in the corridors anymore.”

“Ah.” Jay loosens a breath.

“Moving on,” she sucks in. “My name’s Annabelle. Call me Ann!”

“Okay, Ann, I’m Jay.”

Ann laughs a little, and takes his hands, squeezing both in excitement. “We’re going to be besties!”

<>

Stephen’s in his homeroom. 

He didn’t notice before, because he was decidedly blind, thank you. But he hears the homeroom teacher Ms Eru read out the names for attendance, and he catches the words ‘Stephen Ng’, in which said boy acknowledges with most likely a stiff nod.

He also replies to his name being mentioned with something resembling a nod.

The bell rings, and there’s scrapings of chair legs on cement as people rush out of the classroom for first period. He stays in his seat, waiting for everyone to leave before he moves.

Then there’s a warm presence beside him.

It’s Stephen. He can tell from the cinnamon-and-vanilla scent, the warmth of a small fireplace on a rainy day.

“You… need help?”

“Er— yeah.”

Stephen’s slender hands grip his elbow and leads him from the maze of tables.

He doesn’t know what to make of the warm breath that glosses lightly across his bare skin on his neck.

“Your next lesson is the same as mine, isn’t it?”

Jay nods slightly.

There is an awkward pause as they stride through the mostly empty corridor.

“I didn’t notice that you were…” Stephen trails off.

“It’s not something you would notice on the spot. I forgot my walking stick yesterday.”

“Then how did you actually even get through the whole school day?”

“Magic.” Jay senses the sarcastic look on Stephen’s face, then adds, “A lot of bumping into people and staying in classrooms.”

There is another pause, a little less weird.

“How is it like?”

“Dark.”

“Psstt. I didn’t mean that literally.”

“No, like yeah. Dark.”

“Oh.”

Jay’s face heats up as he feels Stephen’s hands still hang and grasp his arm.

“You can… let go?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” His wonderful hold vanishes, but at least he’s still an earthly presence beside Jay.

They don’t say anything until they reach their class. 

Jay touches the place Stephen held, skimming his fingers over the warm parts, feeling strangely warm inside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ann says hi, and probably Stephen's already dead from Jay.


End file.
